onlycareaboutshipping: (Default)
π’Άπ“‚π‘œπ“‡π‘’π“‰π“‰π‘’ ([personal profile] onlycareaboutshipping) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2017-05-12 09:39 am
Entry tags:

( sneaking around. )


Get the adrenaline pumping and your best game plan in motion, because you've got to be sneaky about your sexcapades. Whether you just like to take advantage of inopportune moments, like fucking before battles or in tight spaceship cockpits or when you have company, your relationship is...not opportune, or you two simply like to abscond during the in-between moments you have together, you'll soon learn to appreciate the fine art of intrigue and being covert.

  • Information, preferences, limits, ideas, you know all the drills.
  • Do a thread.
theonewhocounted: (knowing smile)

Molly Hooper | BBC Sherlock

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-13 12:45 am (UTC)(link)
punchmeitssubtext: (Not bad.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-13 01:34 am (UTC)(link)
[a box at the ballet? a crime scene? a pirate ship where the captain and his navigator tend to sneak off at odd moments?]
theonewhocounted: (Default)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-13 01:56 am (UTC)(link)
[Haha. I just pictured Sherlock as Captain Hook and Molly as Smee. XD Might be a little too AU for me but I'd give it a go if you wanted. I'm also fine with the ballet or we could do the morgue/office setup or anything really. :)]
punchmeitssubtext: (Not bad.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-13 02:48 am (UTC)(link)
When he gets their subscription to the ballet season, he makes sure to get a private box, largely because it means they don't have to deal with anyone in the next seat over recognizing either of them or attempting to snap a covert photo of them holding hands. With a little breathing space between them and everyone else, he's more relaxed, more openly playful. The ritual of dinner beforehand is pleasant, too: on ballet evenings he gets to indulge in several of the pleasures he's spent too much of his life neglecting, one at a time. (Though truthfully, even a quickly eaten sandwich registers as something more than refueling when he's with Molly.)

Tonight's performance is Le Corsaire. It's also the first time he's seen her in two weeks. He and John have had to be in Scotland, on a case the Glasgow police practically begged for his help with, and it's turned out to be thornier than he anticipated. In fact he's only just got back to London that morning, while Molly herself was at work. He's had time to crash for a few hours, shower and change, and then get to the ballet--thanks to her schedule and a massive traffic jam they've agreed to have dinner afterwards instead of beforehand.

He manages to get there before her, and immediately heads for the box, where he can fidget and check his phone incessantly in relative privacy.
theonewhocounted: (mirror)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-13 03:16 am (UTC)(link)
Tonight Molly is exceedingly grateful that Sherlock got them private box seats. She is nowhere near as put together as she's been on previous ballet outings and she's feeling frazzled from the traffic, worried she was going to be late. The last thing she needs right now is her picture taken by a gossip rag.

As soon as she gets into the opera house she makes a beeline for the bar where she buys them both a drink before heading up to meet him. She's missed him terribly the past two weeks. It's the longest they've been apart since their relationship began and it's felt like she was missing some of herself while he was gone. It's utterly ridiculous, but it's been no use telling herself that.

She gets up to the box and pushes through the heavy curtained entrance to see his familiar frame in a familiar posture (typing away at his phone) and her heart beats wildly at just the sight of him.

"Hey," she says nonchalantly, trying not to be too obvious about how excited she is to see him. "Sorry I'm running so behind."
punchmeitssubtext: (Biology doesn't lie.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-13 05:26 pm (UTC)(link)
When he looks up at her, his cool facade drops completely. He very nearly lights up for a moment--even though they've been texting and calling one another, even though he's been preoccupied with the case, seeing her in person again (with a gin and tonic in each hand, thank God) sends a wave of relief through him.

Without her curling against him, he's slept poorly, fitfully. Without the smell of her somewhere nearby, he's been fidgety and brusque. The moments he hasn't been engaged with the case have dragged. Even with John around, he's been... he's been lonely, away from her for so long.

And now she's here.

Immediately his phone is forgotten, fumbled back into his pocket so he can stand up to greet her.

"Not a problem," he says, his mouth lifting. "Hi."

In a few minutes, he knows, the lights will come down and the overture will start. But he's having a difficult time focusing on that when Molly is, finally, right here.
theonewhocounted: (pre-kiss)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-14 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
As soon as Molly sees him light up, she's beaming at him. God, she's missed him. Just the sight of that fond smile makes her melt, makes her heart beat faster, makes her want to grab on to him and never let go.

She's drawn right to him, the drinks in both her hands forgotten almost as she comes in for a hello kiss. They're somewhat alone, so it's less chaste than I might be if people were around.

"I missed you," she admits and there's no shame or weakness in it. She's told him plenty of times over the phone anyway. She's beyond pretending that he's not occupied most of her thoughts these past couple of weeks.
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-14 02:47 am (UTC)(link)
He loops his arms around her, takes a long and hungry taste of her mouth before she pulls away, and when she pulls back he moves to take one of the drinks from her. He's grinning now, lips wet, eyes warm.

"Me too," he says quietly, a low and contented rumble. "The pathologist in Glasgow was even worse than the one in Cardiff."

He takes a sip, lets the gin spread warm tingling down his throat as he takes in the sight of her more fully.
theonewhocounted: (Default)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-14 04:20 am (UTC)(link)
That one kiss is enough to make her want to say 'forget the ballet'. She's much more interested in him and him alone right now. But he's bought these spectacular box seats and she's a grown adult. She can contain herself for a couple hours.

"I know I shouldn't wish terrible pathologists on you, or any case really, but it's somewhat pleasing that you haven't encountered one you like better," she says with a smile befor she takes a sip of her own drink. Her cheeks are already pink from the kiss, but his eyes on her make them color even more.

punchmeitssubtext: (Not bad.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-14 04:47 am (UTC)(link)
Another sip, as he processes details: she's had a long and trying day, with more to fray her composure than the traffic... and judging by the quality of the flush on her cheeks and neck, the size of her pupils, she's aroused.

And suddenly he can't think of anything else but that--or, rather, he can't think of anything in any other context. They haven't touched one another in two weeks. Even with his occasional need for solitude, it's been too long to be away from one another.

Sherlock sets the glass down on his chair, glances over his shoulder at the entrance to the box. There's a small, dark, enclosed space not ten feet from them. It's walled off, so to speak, with the heavy curtain on one side and the door leading into their box on the other.

It'll have to do.

The orchestra begins the formal process of tuning, the audience settling in their seats. Before the lights can begin to dim he grabs her hand, leans in to put his mouth next to her ear.

"This way," he whispers, tugging her back towards the curtain with him.
theonewhocounted: (Default)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-14 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
Molly watches him put his drink aside and she expects he's maybe going to snog her a bit more or something. She doesn't expect him to be leading her somewhere.

"Where are we going?" she asks with a slight confused frown as she hears the orchestra start tuning. She really did make it just in time.
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-14 05:06 am (UTC)(link)
The cords that hold the curtains open are easy to undo--a child could manage, and dozens probably have, over the years--so that he can draw them shut, blocking out all but a faint sliver of light from the theatre. It's pitch black in this little space otherwise, a fact that sends an unexpected thrill up his spine.

Once the darkness closes around them, his mouth descends hungrily on hers again. He's already half hard, something she can probably feel for herself as he begins to back her up towards the wall.
theonewhocounted: (kiss)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-14 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
As he's undoing the cords and shutting them in, his intentions click into place in her brain and she only manages a surprised "oh" before his mouth is on hers.

Oh, indeed.

He backs her up toward the wall and the part of her brain telling her they should not do this is losing any battle it was trying to wage with her sensibilities. He makes her lose all sense. She's known that for ages.

She gives in, kses him back, matching his need, her arms wrapping around him. Two weeks is too long to go without this.
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-14 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)
She pulls him in eagerly, and that's all he needs. He sighs with hot and soundless relief, guides her so her back is against the wall, starts fumbling for the hem of her skirt. If any of his mental voices of reason could make themselves heard over the deafening roar of his need for her right now, they'd be screaming that this is a bad idea, a dangerous one, one that could get them kicked out of the Royal Opera House for the rest of their lives.

The only one he can actually pay any attention to is the one that reminds him he's got a condom in his pocket and there's no one around to see them.
theonewhocounted: (kiss)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-14 09:21 pm (UTC)(link)
When he'd brought up shagging at the ballet as a (somewhat) joke months ago, she had not taken it seriously, nor did she imagine she would ever consent to such an act. But now, in the near dark of this cubby with him pressed hot and hard against her, hands seeking underneath her skirt, and the rest of the world out there totally oblivious, she decides she was wrong. And strangely the fear of getting caught only adds to her excitement, which catches her off guard.

"We shouldn't," she whispers against his mouth anyway because she feels like at least one of them should say it, but she doesn't do anything to stop his wandering hands or her own.

If they're lucky, the orchestra will start playing the overture in a moment and drown out any noise they might be making.
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-15 01:37 am (UTC)(link)
"Probably," he whispers back, as he pushes her skirt up, nudges her legs further apart. Thank God it's a summer evening and she didn't bother with pantyhose--he's only got her knickers to contend with, which is all he's got the patience for right now.

They really shouldn't, but since when has that ever stopped Sherlock Holmes?

Outside, the audience begins to applaud as the conductor takes his place at the head of the orchestra. In a few moments the overture begins, the sound flooding the opera house.
theonewhocounted: (pre-kiss)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-15 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
Molly has nothing to say to that because if she was going to put a stop to this, she would have done so by now. And when the music starts and fills one of her only senses not already being stimulated, she knows that she is about to lose herself in this moment, no matter if it should be happening or not.

Essentially, she chooses to turn the rational part of her brain off in favour of other areas.

Her hands move from where they've curled into his hair and slide down his chest to pull his shirt from his trousers. They then go to work on his fly. There will be no taking their time with this. He's already rock hard against the fabric and she can feel she's ready for him too.
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-16 01:11 am (UTC)(link)
He lets out a breathy moan into her mouth as she starts tugging at his fly; even though his fingers are hot and tingling he manages to fumble the condom out of his pocket. It's a struggle to keep from thrusting up into her hand once she's got belt and button and zip undone, once those long clever fingers grope inside his trousers to tug him free of his pants.

Sherlock can already tell it's going to be quick. But he can also tell it's going to be explosive. Besides, they can take their time with one another when they get back to Baker Street afterwards. Maybe takeaway in bed. Something. Trying to put a condom on in near-total darkness takes up too much of his concentration to devote much more time to that thought.
theonewhocounted: (sexy)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-16 01:21 am (UTC)(link)
Molly strokes him a couple times before he moves her hands away to put on the condom. She wants to tell him they don't need it - they're clean and she's on birth control - but it's not the right time or place to have that conversation. Later. Next time.

For now, she helps him out by reaching under the skirt of her dress to slip her knickers off her hips. She wiggles them down her legs until she can step out of them. Any mental factions she has left she uses to make a mental note to retrieve them once they're done. The idea of leaving her wet knickers on the floor of the Royal Opera House for someone to find is mortifying. (Not more so than the idea of them getting caught in this moment, but that's a scenario she can't even imagine right now.)

punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-16 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
The second he feels her step free of them, he slides a hand under her thigh, urging her to wrap her leg around his waist, even as his body presses forward to brace her back against the wall. For a moment it's all fumbling, graceless, urgent--

--and then he has to kiss her hard to keep himself from moaning aloud as they line up just right and he's inside her, all at once, a quick wet slide that makes his head spin, leaves him feeling dizzy and drunk.
theonewhocounted: (kiss)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-16 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
Molly's arms wrap behind his neck for balance as she hikes her leg up his hip. It occurs to her then that this is the first time he's fucked her against a wall - which means it's the first time he's fucked anyone against a wall. Of course his first time would be in a dark alcove of a packed Royal Opera House during the ballet. It's so very Sherlock of him.

Her thoughts cease entirely when after some initial fumbling he finally presses into her. She whimpers into his mouth that's now devouring her and instinctively wraps her other leg around his waist, pulling him against her tightly.

"Fuck," she breathes out almost soundlessly against his lips.
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-17 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
"Gladly," he almost growls. With her upper back firmly pressed to the wall and her legs wrapped around him, he can flatten one hand on the small of her back, urging her hips down into his as he begins to grind upward.

As much as he wants to feel her skin right now, practically burns for it, the clothing still between them heightens the experience as much as the darkness and the music and the awareness that they're not alone. It only highlights how urgent this is, how desperately they need one another, how truly consuming this thing between them can become.
theonewhocounted: (kiss)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-17 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
Molly whimpers and uses the strength of her legs to help grind her body against his. The music seemingly surrounds them in this dark pocket of the world they've created and it's an entirely surreal moment, like they're in some sort of movie with their own soundtrack. It feels like they're moving with it or it's moving with them and right now she can't tell the difference (or that one of those options is not at all realistically possible). She feels his desire and need and her own all at once. And the danger too.

The rush of it all overwhelms her senses and she's moving erratically, desperate, already on the edge. Her mouth doesn't stop devouring him as they move together and her teeth catch his bottom lip and tug.
punchmeitssubtext: (You've always counted.)

[personal profile] punchmeitssubtext 2017-05-17 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
That little hint of pain, combined with the pressure of her legs around him and her fingers curled into his hair and tugging, drives him to fuck her harder and faster. He loves Molly's strength in much more than simply the physical sense, but God, right now the physical aspect of it is driving him out of his considerable mind. It's like he's rapidly becoming lost in her, boundaries lost, his overwhelmed nerves unable to figure out whether the heartbeat hammering against his chest is his own or Molly's.
theonewhocounted: (kiss)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2017-05-17 03:07 am (UTC)(link)
Molly is already lost - in the sounds and feelings and smell of this man. There's little thought happening other than of their joining, of the release that is coming at her like a freight train. She's panting and still trying to kiss him and then suddenly with hardly any warning she's there, coming hard. Her whole body spasms against his as her face scrunches up in a silent scream, knowing that she can't make any noise. Lights go off behind her eyes with the power of it and she buries her face into the curve of his neck as she shakes against him - her orgasm seemingly never ending.

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